Saturday, March 8, 2014

My first self-publishing efforts!

Well, today I made a leap I swore I’d never make, I decided to step into the pool of self-publication. It’s been a rough week, books on three pirates sites, royalty cheques so laughable I cried. I’ve done this a long time, and I’ve been generous to everyone along the way, readers and my fellow authors alike. I haven’t gone to war with any publisher, ever. This is not patting myself on the back, just simple statement of fact. At this point, one of two things has to happen, I have to start earning some kind of financial return on the endless hours of work–or I have to quit altogether.

This morning, I decided to experiment and see what it was all about. SO, I pulled out a novella that I recently had the rights back from, and gave it a read through, tweaked it here and there, and used it as the learning guide. Twelve hours later, I have managed to successfully publish the book at Amazon, and Smashwords. I was lucky, Kayden McLeod had designed an amazing cover, and given her permission for me to use it again.

With that in mind, if you’re interested–these are my first two titles, published under my own name, sans publishing house:

This is an EROTIC/VAMPIRE historical..... it's set in Ancient Pompeii, mostly, and moves into modern time..... it contains a great deal of sexual content, and historical accuracy about the decadence of the Romans of that era. It was fascinating to write, and as you can see, the cover is a stunner..... I hope your curiosity will be piqued, and you'll consider adding this one to your collection - the reviews are amazing... and I think you'll find it a satisfying read!!!

Available now at:

Limited time offer: Use the promo code PK54K during checkout at Smashwords and save 40% until March 15th!


Pompeii lies complacent and decadent in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, the populace thriving on their depravity and their hunger for blood and Games. Within the elite aristocracy, games of another type are being played, deadly secrets are a threat to more than status, and conspiracy is a way of life for those who are unhappy.

Lucius has long been exalted as a warrior without peer. Adored and covetted by men and women alike, he is blind to the plots that are thickening around him. While total control is his on the bloody fields of war, on the battlefield of the heart, as he is about to discover, even the strongest man can be deceived by his ignorance.

Watching over it all is the majesty of Vesuvius, sputtering smoke, promising retribution. In the midst of the looming destruction, an ancient evil emerges, and will claim not only a celebrated general of Rome, but the slave girl he has slowly grown to love and cherish. A girl who will follow him into hell itself?


Pompeii—Under the rule of the Emperor Vespasian

“The Emperor is most pleased with your progress, General,” Proconsul Flavius noted as he strolled the market streets with Pompeii’s illustrious hero. They proceeded without impediment as the people of the busy city cleared a path for them.

The general, Lucius, smiled, pleased by the undercurrent of fear that marked his passage. He enjoyed the power his position gave him, and the recognition of it came in various forms. Even the proconsul wasn’t entirely at ease with him.

“And well he should be, Proconsul. Resistance is crumbling. Another victory and Gaul will truly be defeated.”

They had reached the slave market, and Lucius stopped as a scream rose above the usual noises of the area. He felt an unwelcome empathy for the terror he heard in the voice, and was annoyed by the surprising emotion.

The slave-dealer’s bellow rang out and drowned the girl’s frightened shrieks. Unconsciously, Lucius turned to look at the raised platform that displayed the slaves being auctioned off to the highest bidders. The dealer slapped the girl across the face and silenced her before he turned his attention to the gathered buyers.

“…I’m told her name is Xina,” the dealer called out. “Not part of my shipment, good gentlemen, but a last minute addition. Seems she knifed a soldier last night when he refused to pay a fair price for her.” He laughed lewdly and hauled the girl forward so the crowd could look more closely at her.

Despite her obvious desire to remain immune to what was happening to her, her cheeks flamed scarlet when the slaver tore open her gown and left her nakedness displayed for the eager bidders. Almost immediately voices rose and purses were offered. Lucius watched as she closed her eyes and tears spilled from the corners.

“She is a beauty,” the proconsul observed with a laugh. “And a dangerous one, at that.”

Lucius laughed with the shorter man, but his gaze was drawn back to the girl. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, if she was that old. The trader knotted his fingers in long waves of light brown hair and pulled the concealing mass away from her body so the view was unobstructed. Her eyes stayed closed, but her chin lifted and she stood with proud defiance as the raucous bids and laughs continued.

A slow, indolent sweep of her body stirred more than curiosity within the general. His gaze caressed golden flesh, noted the smooth swell of full, brown tipped breasts, the small waist that flared into sensuously rounded hips. Firm, curved thighs were topped by an enticing triangle of sand-colored curls, and the ties of the sandals she wore twined around well-shaped calves like serpents lazing in the sun. Slender arms were tensed, muscles quivering with the effort to mask her fury, and her small hands tangled in the folds of her shredded gown where it hung limply from her shoulders.

“Who is she?” Lucius asked, surprised by his own interest when the proconsul stared up at him, clearly startled by the query.

“You don’t want that one, Lucius,” he advised. “Nydia would destroy her overnight.”

The general smiled again, but let his expression grow icy. The glitter of carefully controlled, lethal rage created a distinct shudder of terror within the Proconsul of Pompeii.

“You haven’t answered my question, Proconsul,” he whispered, his tone cool.

“Xina is the daughter of one of Boudica’s whores,” the other man supplied after a moment’s thought. “She’s been in the brothel since the day of her birth.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow and waited for the official to finish his narrative.

“Her brother, Plautus, is the current champion of Pompeii. Her mother died recently, while Plautus was away from the city, and Boudica decided it was time for the girl to earn her keep until her brother’s return.”

“That woman should be fed to the crowd during games,” Lucius muttered grimly. It was quite clear that Xina was not a common whore, despite her background. Not that it mattered, he mused. Before he was through with her she’d be well versed in a great number of arts necessary to a whore’s survival.
Without warning, Lucius strode into the crowd and headed toward the auction block. He yanked a purse from his belt, threw it toward the dealer, and continued onto the platform. The crowd rumbled with subdued irritation, but none dared defy Pompeii’s most renowned general as he took the girl by the arm and led her from the marketplace.

A sexy short story available from:

Deanna Carlisle and Vittorio D’Angelo are from different worlds, but they share a lusting passion for life, and each other, that makes them the envy of many. Often away from their island idyll, Vittorio is well aware of the temperamental moods of his lover, and she is equally aware of the number of women who covet her place at his side.

Their relationship is not always peaceful, but they’ve made shocking their contemporaries into a game, and battling each other into a tantalizing foreplay to their passion….

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Serpentine Tongue has now been released!

Hey Readers!

I am thrilled to announce that Serpentine Tongue, a fantasy menage has now been released :)
Title: Serpentine Tongue
Author: Kayden McLeod
Genre: Fantasy Menage (Dragon shifters, fae)
Publisher: New Dawning 


Life is full of choices. Siobhan thought she’d never see another Sidhe. Until a blue dragon the size of a small mountain falls into her life, wounded and ailing. When the beast turns into a man, Siobhan has a choice: heal him at the cost of exposing her greatest secret, or let him die. Fallon and Dearg thought they’d spend their lives as Seelie Knights, but treachery of the heart brings a reviled fate crashing upon them. They’ve become the first dragon shifters in fae existence, and they have to trust Siobhan in order to survive. Now, she has to choose: Fallon, Dearg…or both?

Fallon pumped his legs, racing across the meadow under a halo of arrows poised for his back. The Seelie Queen’s archers claimed to be the strongest, fastest, the best.
He was stronger, faster.
The Queen had no one to blame but herself. She cursed him for his “serpentine tongue,” or so she’d once referred to the organ dominating his mouth. Once, she’d used the term as an endearment.  Now, she cursed him. Once upon a time, when they’d met in what he’d mistaken for love, turned out to be lust. Lust for power, greed and good, hard sex. No more.
Her loss, his gain. The truth had come out. For the better, anyway. Next time they’d meet, he’d kill her. He possessed no other choice. His serpentine tongue had spoken the words proclaiming her impending death. Failure to keep his promise was to be foresworn from court, if not killed for being an oathbreaker by powers much greater than he.
The first mattered little to him. The second, well, he wasn’t so sure.
The Queen’s Knights, his brothers in arms, wove through the archers on their winged steeds, some of them attempting to ensure the latter option.
“Fallon, halt!” Garbhan, Captain of the Queen’s Knights, barreled ahead of the others. He cried his plea over the thunderous legion of hooves. “If you stop this flight, I could speak to Druantia about a pardon.”
Fallon tossed his blue-black hair over one bare shoulder. He sneered. “Do not make promises you cannot keep. You might be fucking her royal highness, but she will not forgive this.”
Garbhan growled something lost to the wind. No matter. Fallon was disinterested in empty promises.
His lungs burned, his thighs screamed, tossing the shredded material of his breeches that hung precariously over his hips. He’d never cross the meadow, into the lush undergrowth of the forest. They’d catch him on their magickal steeds long before.
One way out for the likes of him.
He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He hated his enforced ability, but he’d have to use his other form. He jackknifed in mid-leap, snarling at the horses. Garbhan’s reared, kicking out his front legs. Fallon dodged the sharp slashes aimed for his chest.
“Where is Dearg?” Garbhan spat on the ground, as if to rid himself of the distaste of Fallon’s best friend. Nervously, he glanced at archers, who fell back while their Captain conversed. “At least let us bring him back, and I will allow you a full day’s head start.”
Fallon struggled to calm himself. The shift tearing through his body took far longer than it had last time, wasting precious seconds. “I do not know where he went after we left the castle. We went our separate ways.” Too close to a lie. The truth, they’d been forced apart.
Maghnus, always an overzealous guard, dropped from his Pegasus. “Silver tongued beast, tell the Captain of the Queen’s Knights where your friend ran with his tail between his legs.”
“I cannot tell you what I do not know,” Fallon wheezed through the burning fury inside his belly that knew no end. Oh, for Goddess’ sake! Why would the change not come upon him?
Maghnus swung his sword, slicing through Fallon’s ribs. His flesh split, a ripe melon under the blistering sun. He threw his head back and roared, the noise gaining volume and momentum, bleeding into a bellow that shook the trees ringing the meadow.
His eyes burned as his face elongated. His back arched, cracked. Size tripled, then that quadrupled.  He towered above them, half man, half beast as the minute changes reformed his body. At last, it was done.
His snout billowed steam. The Knights fell back, not knowing the secret of his form. Let them think he could blow fire.
“A dragon!” An archer squealed.
The Queen’s secret, for good or bad, had come to light. Fallon startled that the rumors had not yet filled every ear at the Seelie court. For he had been cursed in front of all the nobility. Gossipers and liars, the lot of them.
Garbhan cut the air with his sword, toward Maghnus. He showed not a care. Unlike the others, the Captain knew Fallon kept his wits, even as a dragon. “Have not a fear! This cretin had angered him.”
Fallon hesitated to kill his fellow Knights. They’d grown and trained together, fought for one another. The archers mattered not to him.
“That is a Sidhe no longer!” Maghnus stumbled back, as Fallon rose on his muscled hind legs. “This is what the Queen has done to him?”
“You were there, Maghnus.”
“He did not do this at court!”
Fallon spread his wings across the meadow. His long, thick neck curled over Maghnus, cutting him off from his peers. One crystalline triple iris complete with slit pupil caught the Knight’s.
He didn’t bother to perform a communication charm. His face said it all.
Cut me again, dullard. I shall bite your head clean from your shoulders.
The Knight shuddered, his sword falling to the ground. He’d wet himself, the reek pungent to his oversensitive sense of smell. Inside, Fallon wondered how he’d ever stomached the wretch. His death would be a mercy to his brothers. A true Knight hath no fear of any man or beast.
Blood gushed between them, running down Fallon’s metallic green chest. The shift had ripped open the wound, enlarged the serrated edges. Not the first time he’d been wounded in battle. Not the last either. He’d see this to be true.
Fallon whipped his barbed tail, colliding with Maghnus’ side, tearing through his armor. Maghnus tumbled through the air into three horses, including his own. Fallon uttered a shattering roar, a gust of steam. The warriors scrambled, screaming “fire.”
How little they knew. Not even the Captain understood. Fallon was a water dragon. Ice, to the fire that was Dearg.
He leapt, and damned near fell back to the ground. Perhaps, his wounds surpassed his previous assessment. His limbs deadened, the bone structure of his wings threatened not to keep him airborne for longer than a minute or two. That’s all he needed.
The knights made no move to follow him, as they calmed their steeds.
Arrows flew, tiny sticks to a beast such as him. The beast barely felt them enter his hide.
The man was altogether a different story.
Rewriting The Laws of Fantasy and Paranormal 

Friday, May 25, 2012

Jaded Hearts - New from Ellora's Cave

Jaded Hearts
By: Denysé Bridger

Protected federal witness Carlos D’Alejandro and Special Agent Jade Lazlow–Whinton have had a relationship of convenience over the years. Jade’s retired, but when her estranged husband needs her, he uses her attachment to the enigmatic Carlos to lure her back into the field. When she recovers from near-fatal wounds and discovers the deceit, she goes to the one man who will never lie to her. Carlos.

The idyllic Pacific island paradise D’Alejandro calls home is the stuff of fantasy, but it isn’t long before reality knocks on the door and shatters their peace. The news is grim. People they loved have been killed, and these two unlikely lovers are forced to face a truth neither of them has been willing to examine too closely—that their passion is more than intense attraction.

Publisher’s Note: This title was previously published elsewhere and has been extensively revised for Ellora’s Cave.

Anyone who drops by and leaves a comment, you'll be entered to win a copy of my other Ellora's Cave release - HIDE AND SECRET

Monday, March 5, 2012


Book One of an exciting new series for paranormal fans. Told by two distinctive voices, one familiar, one new, WARRIOR MINE: The Claiming sets the stage for a very different kind of story. With roots over two centuries in the past, Angelique Devereaux is a dark legend, once a Chosen Warrior of god, she betrayed her oaths to love one who was forbidden. Cast out, cursed and scarred, she continues her battle alone. Until a soul as tortured as her own stumbles across her path.

Asher Elliot is lost in his own darkness when he first sees the tall warrior known to legend simply as The Slayer. Tortured by the deaths of his wife and children, this grieving warrior is nonetheless drawn to the timeless, cold being he witnesses at work. Like him, she deals in death and her justice is swift, sometimes messy, but always final. He follows her, watching, growing ever more captivated by her, until finally he must reach out to claim what his reawakened heart wants most…

Now, here’s an excerpt, and our first review:

Inside, the Keep was quiet as a tomb, the way Angelique liked it. The sound of her boots on the stone floors was near-silent, her step light and sure. The stealth wasn’t necessary within these walls, but she’d learned the hard way that permitting herself to be too at ease anywhere was a huge mistake.

She keyed in a security code, darkly amused by the modern technology that was so out of place in this ancient castle. A soft beep and the heavy door swung open with a whoosh of displaced air. A wave of her hand and the vast room began to light, torches flaring to life, casting dancing shadows across the rough floor.

She walked to the far wall, steps steady, her eyes moving over the weapons wall with the affection of a lover. She had favourite tools of her trade, as all warriors did, but today she was inclined to challenge her patience by experimenting with some of the modern toys she had acquired through an unknown friend. Asher Elliot’s gift had arrived with a note that told her clearly he was aware of her work and her archaic weapons. He had also assured her the new weapons would become part of her impressive arsenal and she would find them useful if she allowed herself to become familiar with their efficiency. She should have asked him if he’d consider instructing her, she was a quick study.

Far above her, she sensed people in her home. It was still a strange awareness, to know she was not alone here, but it was a knowledge she was finding more and more pleasant. Tanith had arrived weeks earlier, and Angelique’s welcome should have chased her away, instead the silly witch had laughed and made herself at home. Though she’d never admit it, the slayer was glad of the company, and their history was long. The Little One had clearly allowed some of the nearby villagers into the castle.

She reached out to lift a gun from the rack, then shook her head. Another time, perhaps when or if Asher was around. She had no fear, but she did prefer to know a weapon’s capabilities before she began working with it. When he’d had the small arsenal delivered to her, she’d stored it here, but for now she’d dance with her own devices. She chose a long, slender blade and tested the balance - knowing it was perfect, but enjoying the smooth passes through the air that would loosen her muscles.

She practised alone for what was likely hours, until the air around her was suffocating, though whether it was the heavy dampness of the stone chamber, or the smouldering burn of rage, Angelique couldn’t be certain. She had drawn in too much of the turmoil of others recently, felt their betrayals clawing into her flesh with poison-edged talons. No amount of meditation or internal discussion was calming the need to breathe without choking. There were only two cures for this amount of tension, and neither was available to her at the moment.

Spinning on her heel, Angelique approached the rack of weapons again, and took down the weapon she favoured over others, the perfectly balanced and weighted blade that had been forged for her a thousand years earlier, and sealed with binding magic. She walked to the centre of a circle visible only to her, and began the ritualistic flow of motion, her mind citing the familiar litany of ancient prayer that she offered before each battle. It didn’t matter that this was not battle but therapeutic movement to calm the frenzies tormenting her soul.

The sword became an extension of her being, slicing the air in smooth, precise arcs of silvery radiance. She parried, thrust, dodged the strikes of an invisible adversary... She had no way of seeing herself through the eyes of her silent watcher, and was in fact oblivious to the presence that was part of the shadows. Few living beings could hide their presence from her keen senses, but this one did...

Review of Warrior Mine: The Claiming
by Elliot Devereaux

Angelique Devereaux, an ancient warrior, once one of the chosen and Asher Elliot, a hunter whose prey exist outside human understanding, defy destiny as they fall into a seduction so dangerous it threatens to damn them both for eternity.

Asher waits, hidden in shadows—a voyeur of Angelique’s self-loathing and pain. The torture she suffers is well-earned, a judgment passed when her forbidden love for her prey betrays the vows she made. Her punishment casts her into darkness, one that only Asher can understand.

Drawn together, desire consumes them, erupting into a sensual explosion of passion too intense to be denied.

The language is lush and evocative, the characters powerful, seductive and compelling. When Asher claims his warrior, it is but the first step on a journey fraught with peril. The Claiming is a set piece, introducing us to a darkly indulgent world of unbridled passion.

This reviewer, for one, waits with bated breath for the next episode.—Nya Rawlyns

Friday, February 24, 2012

You Write What...??!!

Smexy books..."romance" novels...chick porn...erotica. No matter what you call it, my chosen genre (officially erotic romance) is a guilty pleasure for many women around the globe. If you think it's risque to read, you should try writing it. Though I publish under my real name (side note: I totally understand why many authors rely on the privacy a pseudonym affords), there are times that I struggle to answer the ever-posed question of, "And what do you do, Ms. Jacks?"

Take for instance, PTA meetings at my son's school. Not the best place to blurt out that I write about folks getting it on in a variety of ways. Or when other authors stand up in church to announce their latest release, I tend to stay quiet about my own books in said forum. But lately I've discovered that what I do professionally is far less shocking than it was even five years ago and that it's an important part of female sexuality. After all, men gleeful invest in movies to put in their "spank bank", why shouldn't women do the same with their smexy books?

So over the past year, I've been more open with my acquaintances about what I write and to my surprise, most people think it's pretty darn cool. I haven't--as of yet--been forced to wear a scarlet A on my sweater or been asked to refrain from showing myself amongst the "decent folk". In fact, the reactions have all been positive--from one friend squealing and jumping up and down when she found out I write one of her favorite series to a high five from a school volunteer mom. Now more than ever, women are embracing their sexuality and I'm proud to be a small part of that trend. You'll never see a "don't try this at home" disclaimer on any of my books. In fact, I think we all should act out scenes from erotic romance novels...I know I do...often *grin*.

So the next time someone asks me, "What do you do?" I'm going to reply, loudly and proudly, "I write erotic romances for women." After all, there's absolutely nothing wrong with loving your inner bad girl.

Cindy Jacks

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Newsletter update and Contests!

I'm changing the format of my newsletter a little bit, in that it will no longer be issued filled with book promos and images, but more of an informal chat about what's happening, what's coming out, etc. It will still be news, but there will also be a few exclusives for the subscribers. So, to launch the new, relaxed approach, I'm going to give subscribers their first "Exclusive" look at a series I am starting to write. Some of you will know the character from her presence on Facebook when I've been deactivated or reported *lol* for others, you are about to meet Angelique Devereaux for the first time, and know her story.

My newsletter is generated through Yahoo Groups, and please if you would set your mail to individual, you will only receive 6-8 emails a year from this group. I will be posting the first new format newsletter this afternoon - so I hope you'll subscribe. If you subscribe at any time between now and the next issue, I will send your newsletter to you personally, but today's edition will have a couple of contest listings that you will no longer be eligible for by Monday. THANKS everyone!!

Friday, February 17, 2012

Drive By Interview with Brigit Aine

Please welcome AUTHORS WHO ROCK's own Brigit Aine!

Name: Brigit Aine

Latest release? Lost to the Night Volume 1 “Prince of Shadows”

Publishers? All of them? XOXO Publishing, Solstice Publishing Decadent Publishing, Eternal Press, Mojocastle Press
Where can we find ya?,,,

Favorites Things:
Favorite author (besides yourself, lol)? Denyse Bridger
Book? All time favorite? Paradise Lost or The Phantom Tollbooth or The Hobbit
Music? Country or New Age
Band/singer? Ummm….
Movie? Ummm….wow…lots of those…Any of the Fast and Furious movies, Gone in 60 Seconds, Lord of the Rings trilogy
Actor? Not really
Actress? Not really
Memory? Opening the door to find someone who changed my life

Time to commit
Okay, you can only choose one--

Erotica or romance? Romance
Summer or winter? Oh wow…ummm… Sumter
Candy or French fries? French fries
Ketchup or mustard? Spicy mustard
Tall, dark and handsome or golden boy? Dark and handsome
S or M? M
Yesterday or tomorrow? Tomorrow
Good boy gone bad or bad boy gone good? Bad boy gone good
M/F or M/M or F/F or menage? Menage M/F/M
Spring or Fall? Spring
Early to bed or night owl? Night Owl
Wine or whiskey? Sorry…neither, don’t drink
Strawberry or chocolate? Strawberry
Chains or whips? Whips
Alpha male or sensitive guy? Sensitive

Guilty pleasure:
Name one thing you love that you’re ashamed of. Go! Oh wow…ummm... brown sugar custard

Tweet your book for us (140 characters max): The Prince of Shadows is being hunted by the retriever, but she is being hunted by a killer. Can he save her and convince her he loves her all at the same time?

Thanks for sharing with us!

Cindy Jacks

Friday, February 10, 2012

Drive By Interview--Denyse Bridger

Since we live in an abbreviated world (LOL, OMG, YGG) I thought it would fun to interview my favorite authors in the same way. Here's my first "drive by interview", but there will be more to come! Please welcome, Authors Who Rock's own Denyse Bridger!

Name: Denysé Bridger

Latest release? – Stolen Rapture

Publishers? Ellora’s Cave, New Dawning Book Fair, Eirelander Publishing, XOXO Publishing™, Samhain Publishing, Liquid Silver Publishing, Solstice Publishing, Ravenous Romance, Noble Romance Publishing, and EDGE Science Fiction and Fantasy Publications.

Where can we find ya?
Authors Who ROCK:
Sensual Treats Magazine:

Favorites Things: Books, my Kobo, and music....have to have the music!

Favorite author (besides yourself, lol)? Cindy Jacks, Margaret Mitchell, Terry Brooks, Nalini Singh, JR Ward, Gena Showalter, so many....

Book? Gone With The Wind

Music? Italian romantic

Band/singer? Riccardo Foresi, Matt Dusk

Movie? Gone With The Wind, Van Helsing, Pirates of the Caribbean, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

Actor? Stuart Townsend, Hugh Jackman for now, past would be Gable, Bogart, and Cagney

Actress? Kate Beckinsale for modern, Vivien Leigh for past era

Memory? Finding out I was going to get my first pro book contract after almost 20 years of writing.

Time to commit
Okay, you can only choose one--

Erotica or romance? Erotic romance *ducking Cindy’s slap now*
Hot or cold? Hot
Sweet or sour? Sour
Cake or pie? Cake
Tall, dark and handsome or golden boy? Dark
S or M? M
Day or night? Night
Good boy gone bad or bad boy gone good? Good gone bad...
M/F or M/M or F/F or menage? M/F
Rain or shine? Rain
Early to bed or night owl? Bit of both
Coffee or tea? Tea
Chocolate or vanilla? Vanilla
Chains or whips? Whips
Top or bottom? Bottom

Guilty pleasure...Name one thing you love that you’re ashamed of. Go! Bodice Rippers, which I still love! LOL

Tweet your book for us (140 characters max) STOLEN RAPTURE - one woman, two vampires, and a passion that is shared by all - erotic ménage:

Thanks for sharing with us!

Cindy Jacks

Monday, February 6, 2012

Pas des Deux - A Valentine Duet

I've often been asked in interviews where my ideas come from, and my usual answer is everywhere. That was never more true than in this case. The Valentine Duet that was released today from XOXO Publishing came about in a very strange way. I was standing in a local Dollar Store, and it was early in February, 2011. While I was waiting to go through check-out, I started looking at all the Valentine novelties that were on display - card games, Love Coupons, candy, and decorations. I picked up the coupon booklet first and started flipping through it, then the Conversation Cards that each held a single question written in red script... the idea began to take shape immediately. Wouldn't this be a great starting point for a romance story. So, I took out my phone, sent a text to Brigit Aine in California, and asked if she'd be interested in doing a "duet" with me based on this idea. She was excited about the idea, so it was a done deal. I bought two of everything and sent her a set, and she chose the Love Coupons to be her story tool. I chose the Conversation Cards. And, PAS DES DEUX is the result of our fun! We hope you will enjoy the stories - one very sweet and romantic, the other sexy and passionate... Join us in our "pas des deux..."

PAS DES DEUX - Her Secret Admirer - Brigit Aine
PAS DES DEUX - The Conversation Cards - Denysé Bridger

One sweet, one sexy - both passionate and guaranteed to make you smile!

Two very different stories of love and passion. In Brigit Aine’s enchanting tale, Her Secret Admirer, love is being discovered, with all its magic and mystery and hope… and in the second movement of the Duet, The Conversation Cards, two people already involved in their passionate love affair learn new things about each other, and reaffirm their bond.

Pas des Deux: Her Secret Admirer – Love is often found when it’s least expected. Cindy is working hard at making her business a success, and at her side offering solid support is Will. When she arrives home one evening to find a Valentine Love Coupon taped to her door, a romantic game of dreams and hope begins as her Secret Admirer begins a courtship that will win her heart long before she knows his name…

Pas des Deux: The Conversation Cards – Two modern lovers, living often separate lives, discover that making time for their relationship isn’t always easy. A whimsical, spur of the moment purchase of a Valentine novelty evokes an open and honest conversation that makes their secret getaway an even more romantic rendezvous, and renews hope for a future that is the stuff of dreams…


Friday, February 3, 2012


Another Man's Wife
By: Cindy Jacks

Available today at Ellora's Cave! 

 After the real estate market crash, Rebecca’s money has run out—and so has her husband, leaving her alone with their son and a mountain of debt. She moves in with her sister while trying to dig herself out. When a handsome neighbor rescues her from a torrential downpour, she finds herself the object of an attraction too powerful to resist.

Jack is an aspiring writer who has a way with words and a way of making Rebecca moan his name. Each love letter he leaves Rebecca enchants her, each afternoon they spend making love draws her deeper into a relationship she can’t define. But with all her son has been through and a husband who’s missing in action, Rebecca may never be able to give in fully to her passion and desire for Jack, to think of herself as anything other than another man’s wife.

Copyright © CINDY JACKS, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Jack paced around his apartment, unable to quiet his mind. What had he been thinking, kissing her?
“She’s married, you idiot,” he said to his reflection in the hall mirror.
Technically she was. No, not technically— Legally. Actually. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The word reverberated around his brain, a mantra of self-recrimination. He stalked into his bedroom and pulled a leather-bound journal from his desk and did what he always did when faced with a problem.

March 29

The kiss was stupid. Not the kiss itself—the kiss was spectacular—but that I did it at all was dumb. Rebecca’s married (sort of), a mother, she’s struggling to keep her head above water. She asked for my help and what do I do? I complicate her life even more. It’s no excuse, but I couldn’t stop myself. From her long hair to her round, fleshy ass and that little belly she tries to hide, but that I find sexy as hell. A woman is supposed to be soft. I want to kiss every inch of her. I want to push myself inside her and make her moan my name. And now I know what she tastes like, what her skin smells like. All I can think about is that soft, perfumed skin pressed against mine. Sinking into her wet pussy. Burying my face in her plump breasts, kissing and suckling. Would she whimper or moan? Would she let me go down on her? Would she go down on me?

A shiver racked him and he had to adjust himself lest his zipper bite into the head of his cock. “Stop it,” he admonished himself, again repositioning his throbbing erection. “Yeah, stupid, I’m talking to you,”

I don’t know what to do now. Do I apologize? She told me not to, but sometimes women say one thing and mean another. Does she hate me? She looked upset when I left. I hope she doesn’t hate me. Maybe I should just ask her.
* * * * *
March 30


Don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. I know the situation you’re in and I know that the last thing you need is another complication. But I also know that when you smile, my mind races, trying to figure out a way to keep that smile on your face. When you speak, I have to concentrate really hard to hear what you’re saying, not because I don’t think what you’re saying is important, but because all I can do is watch your beautiful mouth. I couldn’t help myself today. I had to kiss you. I don’t know if you’ll understand that, but it’s true. I had no choice. And I think you feel the same way. I felt you kiss me back. I think you like me…at least I hope you do. I hate to admit it, but it would kill me if you tell me to leave you alone. So don’t say that, okay? I’ll keep my lips to myself from now on. Just don’t hate me.


After reading Jack’s words, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She drew a sheet of paper from a drawer. Though she could call him or wait until he got home to talk to him, something about replying to him this way seemed more intimate, more appropriate than if she addressed him face-to-face. On the paper she wrote a couple of sentences, then folded it and skipped downstairs, slipping it under his doormat. A spring in her step, she ran upstairs.